The Golden Rule
by Nature9000
Summary: Inspired by an old movie, Spencer complies notes of inventors before him and builds himself a time machine. Now, in time travel, there are many rules to abide by. The most important one, however, Spencer will never forget, the one golden rule.


The Golden Rule

Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly. Say it with me, I do not own iCarly

A/N: This is a oneshot, definitely a humorous one, that I thought of while joking around with a friend of mine. It regards the golden rule of time travel. For a minute, forget the "step on a butterfly, send a shockwave around the globe" rule. There's one rule that's more important than even that.

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><p>- THE GOLDEN RULE OF TIME TRAVEL-<p>

Watching _Back to the Future_ on the couch, Spencer couldn't help but to chuckle at some of the main character's adventures as he traveled through time. It always baffled him how they made that car able to go through the years so well, that during much of his artistic life, he wanted to find out how to make a time machine. His latest endeavor had been successful, but he didn't even know how he managed to make it work. He stepped in, pressed a few buttons, just thinking all he built was a toy, and then the next thing he knew, he was standing in his phone booth, modeled after his favorite show, _Doctor Who_, watching a giant Tyrannosaurus fighting off a Triceratops.

Behind him sat the black and red phone booth machine. He'd used some mechanical notes from inventors in the past that tried to build time machines, put all those notes together and then tried it out. Of course, he couldn't figure out why the time machine hadn't been invented by now, if so many had come so close, but never patented it. Why? Why was that?

Even still, in most of the prior inventor's notes, they mentioned one fact in common: _When you travel in time, no matter where you go, you will wind up stepping out of that time machine in a city or place that an ancestor has been in that time._ How amazing would it be to go back in time and ask your ancestors what life was like, how they lived, and whatever else they had to go through in that day and age? He knew his father's line rather well, they all came from military backgrounds, but since his mother wasn't alive any longer, he couldn't safely say what her family line was all about. Were they military too? Were they lawyers?

This all gave him interesting ideas, but he never wanted to find out. He did, however, want to know about the great military leaders in his ancestral history. His father was into all that genealogy stuff, but he never took the time to look at his dad's work. Now that he had a time machine, perhaps he _wouldn't_ have to take that time.

"Hey Spencer, what's this?" Freddie asked from behind. Thinking fast, he quickly shot from the couch and leapt over to the time machine, pulling Freddie away before he touched it. Freddie nearly bumped into Sam, who was standing next to Carly. When had they come in? "Whoa!" Carly shook her head and moved towards him, laughing.

"It's a new invention Spencer made about a week ago. He says it's a time machine, and that it _works_." Freddie's eyebrows rose and Sam stared at the machine with skeptic eyes. Of course, they wouldn't believe it. After all, he wasn't all that smart, now was he?

"I'll show you guys," He said while stepping into his machine. Carly's face dropped, she'd been against him using it from day one. "Dad gave me some important dates once of his ancestors, so I'm going to meet some of our great Military ancestors!" There was only room for two people, and Carly wasn't interested in coming with him. Neither Freddie or Sam wanted to go with him. Sam turned her head to the television just as Marty wound up having sex with either his young mother. Spencer typed in 1865 and surprised everyone as his machine started sparking. He grinned and shut the door, staring at the trio as they watched with wide eyes. "It's working! It's working!"

In a flash of blinding light, he covered his face. When the flash ended, he found himself gazing out the windows at a room with brown walls. He slowly stepped out of the machine, smiling in awe as he walked down the hall. He stopped once he heard voices coming from another room, General Ulysses S. Grant and General Robert E. Lee were discussing the end of the Civil War. He was stunned, he'd made it just in time to see the surrender of General Lee? Yes!

Which one of these men were his ancestors? He just had to know! When he heard someone acknowledge him, he turned to see a man that greatly resembled his father. He had short brown hair with grey streaks, a confederate uniform, and a strict facial expression. His heart sank a little, as he started to realize, this man was likely his ancestor, not either one of the great Generals. "I said, who are you?"

"Um…my name is Spencer Shay?" He had a tone of uncertainty in his voice, as he understandably looked very strange to this man. The man studied him carefully and slowly shook his head.

"Impossible, _I_ am Spencer Shay." Uh oh. The man put his thumb to his chest and narrowed his eyes. "My son is Spencer Jr. He is only an infant, do not try to pass yourself along as me, I will strike you down. And _what_, may I ask, are you _wearing_?"

"No sir, I didn't mean that. I'm just…uh…" He looked down and chuckled nervously. He had on a blue T-shirt with an image of a power drill and hammer in the shape of an X. He wore blue jeans and brown leather shoes. "Would you believe I'm…from the future?" The man raised an eyebrow and moved his hand to his belt, he had a sword at his hip. One very _sharp_ looking sword.

Something was wrong, though. If he recollected his father's boring history lessons from childhood, his ancestor died in 1865. On the day of Robert E Lee's surrender. Spencer always thought that his ancestor perished in the war. Why was he still alive? "From the 'future', you say. You expect me to believe that? Are you going around, besmirching my name?"

"No. Honest I'm not!" He started slowly backing up, thinking to make a break for his time machine. This was _not_ what he had in mind when he wanted to go back in time. No, death was not something he cared for. Just as his ancestor was reaching for the sword, General Lee came walking out the door. The man halted and turned to his General, saluting him. However, the look on the General's face was that of pained anger.

"Sergeant Shay, thank you for coming so hastily." Spencer raised his eyebrow and continued backing up to his time machine, still watching closely. "I'm afraid my slave, Mary, has hidden the baby she birthed a few months ago. Would you know anything of this, sir?"

"No sir, I don't know anything about a slave."

"Really? Because before I killed her for her recent escape attempt, I asked her the name of the baby's father, and she said…you…Now I know you have a brother somewhere, maybe a parent, but I can't imagine how my slave could have gotten that baby out of my land…" Spencer's eyes widened and he quickly rushed into the time machine. His ancestor had sex with one of General Robert E Lee's _slaves?_ Oh shit. No need to question how this man died.

Thinking fast, he punched in the numbers of yet another date, somewhere in the American Revolution. As the time machine whirled and sparked, he took one final glance at the scene outside. As the General thrust a blade through his ancestor's heart, he felt a sudden rush of sorrow and fear. His father never informed him of _this!_

Not long after that, he found himself in a land with few buildings, the date was 1776, and in the distance was a man limping away with another soldier. This man had one hand on his abdomen and one arm around the other soldier's shoulder. It didn't look good, as the other soldier seemed wounded too, and in the middle of several dead enemy redcoats, along with several dead allies. He quickly stepped from the time machine, ignoring the fact that he didn't have time-worthy clothes, and rushed to the two soldiers. Whoever they were, they needed help!

Just as he approached them, they stared at him as if he were something so vile and dangerous. He could tell the greater wounded man was his ancestor, as he had a similar bone structure and somewhat longer hair. This man spoke first when he met his eyes. "Are you an enemy of General Washington and our great lands, or are you friend? What part of this country are you from?"

"I'm from the state of…" If he said Washington, he would probably be killed or deemed crazy. Most likely this was Pennsylvania, and did they even refer to these lands as _states_ yet? "I'm of the thirteen colonies, I'm here to help!" The men looked at each other, then looked at him with great skepticism. The lesser wounded soldier looked ready to kill him, but the other man, sweating bullets, agreed to his help.

"I fear the worst, we are among the few still living after this battle. General Washington has taken the rest of the troops, assuming us for dead. I have a girlfriend waiting for me to return home, do you think you can catch up with General Washington?" Spencer's eyes widened and he was instantly filled with intrigue and amazement. Could he get the opportunity to actually speak with General Washington himself? No one else would believe him, but it didn't really matter. Plus, it meant saving his ancestor!

"Yes sir! What are your names?"

"I am Jonathon Shay, John for short. The General knows of me. This man next to me is William, the local shoe maker."

"I'll be back with General Washington, don't move!" He started to run, but stopped when John called out to him.

"He's the other way, son. Also, you may want to change whatever outfit you're wearing…take the uniform of the officer next to you…" He paled and looked towards the body of a dead ally, he couldn't fathom wearing the uniform, but if it was necessary. So be it.

After having changed into a bloody uniform and running off in pursuit of the great man himself, he found them all riding away on horses. He waved his hand through the air and pulled out his deepest yell. "General Washington! General Washington!" He heard the powerful man halt his troops and look back to him with narrow, concerned eyes. "You've left behind two of your own! Jonathon Shay and William, the so-shoe maker!"

"What?"

"They're barely alive, sir!"

"I see. Men! Return!"

It wasn't long before John and William were getting the medical attention they deserved. Fortunately, they were going to live to fight another day. He couldn't feel prouder than he was in this moment, although, it did mean that he was the very reason for his ancestor being alive, and perhaps, the reason that _he _was alive. Once the realization dawned upon him, he was both shocked and baffled by the paradox. How in the hell did he manage to be the "strange man" who saved Jonathon Shay in the midst of battle?

General Washington shook his hand, looking strongly into his eyes. His grip was firm, powerful, like that of a great leader. "Thank you, sir, whatever your name is. You have saved one of my shoulders and are clearly, a friend of this great nation. I am in your debts." Spencer opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He was about ready to pass out! He just shook hands with one of the most influential people in the history of the entire world! Yes! "Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"I-I can't stay long, but thank you so much. I'm glad to have been of service to you. Can I just say what an _honor_ it is to meet you? I mean you're this really great, powerful guy, and I'm just…I'm like _nothing_." Washington raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the right. "I'm like, I don't know…I have _so_ many things I could talk to you about, but I know it wouldn't be right if I did."

"Why is that?" Well for one thing, anything he suggested to Washington could seriously change the state of the nation, and he really didn't need that to happen. Even holding the great General up now could potentially screw things up.

"Never mind that, sir. I must go!" Before he left, he took one look to his ancestor, Jonathon, and smiled. "Mr. Shay! Sir!" Jonathon was sipping some drink, huddled up in some coat. He lifted his head up to Spencer and smiled kindly. "It's been great meeting you."

"You too, son. I don't know why, but you strike a familiar chord in me. Go on and do great things."

"Oh I will, but more importantly, I'm sure you will and I'm sure the great General himself will go on to do amazing things!" The men chuckled and shook their heads, almost disbelievingly, while Spencer quickly rushed into his time machine.

The next few dates he went through, seemingly forgetting that wherever he went, some ancestor would be. He went to Vietnam and saved a young soldier in 1974 from near death. The man looked vaguely like his father, but he didn't give much thought to it. The soldier had been stranded in the middle of a forest, was bleeding profusely from the chest, so Spencer did everything he could to use whatever utensils he had to bandage the wound and take the soldier to the nearest camp in which he received immediate medical attention.

The next step he made, he shook hands with a young pilot in 1949 towards the end of World War II. The young man had just flown out of enemy territory and was ready to go home, but due to all the violence and bloodshed he'd seen, he had been about to end his life. Spencer managed to convince him not to, and when the pilot spoke of a young, beautiful woman that he met through a supervisor, Spencer informed him that he should go back home and return to her. Little did he know, this man was his own grandfather.

The next thing he wanted to do was travel to the 1920's, he wanted to see what life was like. So, he traveled to 1927, where he found himself in the middle of some great house party. As he stepped out, he made certain to be in proper clothing of the era. He had a tuxedo, in hopes that it was good enough.

The large home he'd arrived in apparently belonged to some rich family named Abrams. He didn't recognize that as anyone in his timeline, so maybe he had an ancestor that was here at the party going on, but maybe not. He saw people spinning to some old timey classical music, yellow dresses and well dressed men were everywhere.

He heard a group of people talking off to his right and looked over to see a group of men drinking champagne. "I cannot believe the woman has holed herself up in her bedroom! Her father throws this party for her and she remains with all those pictures of hers."

"She's just another lazy flapper."

"Sad. I wonder what this world is coming to that women think they can just prance about with short hair and short dresses. What's next, a woman _working_?" The men laughed and Spencer rolled his eyes. Of course, the 1920s were the era of feminism, he'd forgotten about that fact. He just wanted to step up and say, yes, women would be working one day, but he'd probably be laughed at. No one thought a woman's place was the 'kitchen' anymore!

Either way, he wanted to find this girl and see why she wasn't participating in the party. If her father was throwing it, then maybe she ought to have some fun. He turned to the three men and grabbed himself a glass of wine. "Do you know where this lady's room is? Perhaps I can convince her to come out and enjoy the party?"

"Good luck with that," replied the tall mustachioed man. The other two laughed and Spencer waited calmly for them to simply tell him where she was. "She's not come out of her room since her husband passed away, this party is Richard Abram's attempt to hand her away to her late husband's brother, Jack."

"I see." Maybe that was it, the reason she didn't want to come out, because she was going to be married to someone that she didn't want to be married to? "So where is she, do you know?"

"In her bedroom, up those stairs and down the hall to the left."

"Thank you." He followed their directions and eventually found the woman they were speaking about. She was in her room, sitting in front of an easel, painting an image of the sky. She had short brown hair, halfway down her neck, and was wearing a long golden dress with lace sleeves. She was _beautiful_, and to top it off, she was an _artist!_ He smiled and stepped in, but she didn't tear her eyes away from the easel. "H-Hello, I was told you were keeping yourself hidden away up here?"

"Hidden?" The girl dipped her brush in some paint and ran it along the picture. Spencer eyed the room and saw several different portraits, all with the name _Sally_ written in the lower left corner. "Why would _anyone_ think I'm hidden? Is it that hard to imagine a girl who loves to paint or write?"

"No, not at all, I'm an artist myself." Sally gasped and rose to her feet, turning and smiling with bright blue eyes at Spencer. Her cheekbones were high and her lips had a distinct puffiness to them.

"A fellow artist? Why I half expected a man to shun me for even messing with paints, but as my father and my father's father before knows, art is essential to life. My sisters can't _possibly_ understand that! Now, I don't recognize you, were you on my father's guest list?"

"Your father?"

"Richard Abrams, I'm Sally, it's a pleasure to meet you." She held out her hand, covered in a mixture of red, blue, and green paint. "You'll have to forgive my paint covered hand, sometimes it works better than a brush."

"I agree, I've had many moments like those." He extended his own hand and shook hers, keeping his eyes locked with her own gaze. He'd seemingly forgotten where he was. "So, is it true, they're marrying you to your former husband's brother?"

"Jack Carlson. Yes, he's all about _politics_." She rolled her eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. "Just _once_, I'd love to spend some time with a man that wasn't either political or militaristic! You know, a true artist? Like Leonardo Da Vinci, or…Thomas Edison!"

"Edison was an inventor…"

"So? Inventions are just art. They're the true heroes of our time." He had to agree with her there, without such expressions, this world would not be as great as it was. Art expression was everything. This woman wanted to see the artists of the past? He grinned widely and quickly nodded his head.

"What if I told you that I could show you these famous artists." She eyed him skeptically and put her hands to her hips.

"What if I told _you_, I didn't believe you?"

"I've…invented a time machine."

"Oh you're an inventor? You seem too handsome to be one, I don't believe you." Her tone was snappy. She threw her hand up in the air and started to turn around. He smirked and closed his eyes. "No man has ever invented a time machine. Just like no woman will ever come out from the oppression of man."

"Well, I'll be the first to prove you wrong. On _both_ accounts." She laughed and started to pick up her paintbrush.

"Do that, and I will paint you a portrait. Sadly, I'm doomed to stay married into politics, or become a heathen." He was probably about to break a time travel law here, but what did that matter? He stepped forward and put his hand to her arm, his mind just turned to mush whenever he saw a pretty woman. He couldn't help but to try and impress her.

"Then get ready to paint my picture, Sally." She met his eyes and responded with a devious smirk.

"Anything to get out of this god-awful, boring party."

Once they managed to sneak out of the mansion, he had already made a mental list of all the artists he wanted to show her, to set out and prove her wrong, and that was exactly what he did. She'd been amazed when they wound up meeting great artists such as Thomas Edison, DaVinci, Shakespeare, Greeks, Romans, _Jesus_, who gave them an odd look of disapproval. They traveled through time, unsure of how long they'd been out, it could have been weeks!

They stopped in one location, unsure of exactly what time it was, though it did look like the 1600s. Sally pulled him by wrist from the time machine, laughing gleefully as they made their way to a puffy white bed. "I'm just amazed! Traveling with you these past couple of weeks has been…I've never seen anything like it."

"I told you, I made it myself." He smiled as he kept his eyes locked with hers. He'd even shown her times of _her_ ancestors. In fact, wherever they were now, was likely one of her own ancestors, as there was a blank easel to their left. He'd become immensely attracted to this woman, but they never really talked about themselves very much. "Now, about that portrait of yours?" He smirked teasingly and moved closer, putting his hands on her waist. She moved a finger to her lower lip and bit her fingernail in thought, furrowing her brow.

"I suppose I do owe you that. Is it all right if I kiss you?" Her cheeks burned red and his eyebrows rose. Why do so when it was clear she was set out to be married?

"What about Jack?"

"He doesn't have to know. Why, we're not even in that timeline." This was true, and besides, she didn't even want to marry the guy. Without a further thought, he leaned forward and kissed her. She moaned softly and threw her arms around his neck. They fell back onto the bed, running their hands up each other's back. The passion flared inside of them, scorching them, making them forget for the moment who or where they were.

In what was perhaps the most passionate moment of his life, he and Sally had both begun undressing each other and kissing, praying this moment would never end. As time passed, they had their passionate love making, a memory that Sally could only describe as perfection. After the deed, Spencer lay on the bed, smiling as she painted the image of him.

After all was said and done, they returned back to her time. He couldn't keep her from that timeline, for what would happen if he screwed up time so badly just by taking her with him? Not only that, he was beginning to miss Carly and the others and wanted to get back to them. He made certain that he arrived in her room at the very moment that he took her from the room.

"Will I see you again?" Sally asked, her hands on his shoulders and her eyes begging him to stay with her. He slowly shook his head, disheartened. He hated to break her heart, but it had to be done, unfortunately.

"I'm sorry Sally, I have to get back to my own time. My sister and her friends are waiting for me, I miss them…"

"Can't you take me with you?"

"No, unfortunately, that could screw up the timeline somewhere. I'd rather avoid that…" She bowed her head and lowered her hands to her side. Pain stabbed his heart like a hot blade through the chest. He rose his hand to her cheek and saw her tearful gaze rise to him. "I'm sorry, Sally…"

"I-I feel like…I really love you, you're the only man that's ever been able to make me feel so…so _alive._"

"I know, and I can say the same about you, but…" A swift knock came to the door and a man's voice echoed from behind. Sally gasped and turned her gaze to the door. It was Jack.

"Sally?" Jack's voice sounded calm and full of concern. "Sally, I was hoping we could talk. I know our parents are making a whole political thing out of this, but, it doesn't have to be that way…can we talk?"

"Just a minute, Jack. I…hold on…" She looked back at Spencer and slowly rose up to him, kissing him gently. Her voice lowered to a whisper and she pulled away from him, just an inch. "Spencer. I won't forget that name. Just hurry, head back to your own time…thank you for an amazing adventure…any woman that ends up with you will be lucky, you know how to make a girl feel special."

"I'm sure you and Jack will have many great memories."

"Sally?" Spencer looked over to the door and took a step backwards. Sally let out a soft gasp of surprise and Spencer carefully made his way to the time machine. Hopefully Jack _would _make her happy.

He entered in the information and watched Sally wave tearfully at him as the machine started to fade away. He brushed away a tear of his own and clenched his eyes shut, cringing as his stomach turned over. In his depressed haste, he actually entered the date for the day after he left originally.

Once he arrived, he saw Sam lying on the couch, tossing a tennis ball in the air. Freddie was at the computer and Carly was standing behind the couch. They all looked to him with eager surprise when he stepped out. Sam quickly shot up and Freddie made his way over, both appeared completely convinced that he'd just gone back in time. "What took you so long? You've been gone a whole _day!_"

"A day? Really?" He wiped his eyes and looked back into his machine, gawking at the date. "Well, I overshot that. Anyway, let me tell you what a great adventure I had! I saw our ancestor in the civil war, shook hands with President _Washington!_ Saved a soldier in Vietnam! I even convinced a World War II veteran to go home to his girlfriend. Also…I fell in love…"

"All in one day?" Carly crossed her arms and chuckled as her two friends moved behind her. They studied him carefully and Spencer quickly nodded his head. "Time machines are great that way! You wouldn't be surprised. It's been a while since I've, uh…you know…made love to someone."

"You shouldn't have sex in time travel," Sam snorted. He raised an eyebrow and watched as the girl leaned back against the couch. "You never know who you'll run into. We believe you now, though. Carly got off the phone with your dad, and he told us this great story about a random stranger who saved his life in Vietnam. Had it not been for that man, neither you or Carly would be alive today!"

"What?" His jaw fell and he instantly recalled that every time someone travels in time, you will meet an ancestor. Typically, the ancestor will be the person you have the most interaction with. "He was going on and on about genealogy, right Carly?" Carly nodded and closed her eyes.

"Yep. It made us decide to look through some of the genealogy papers Dad has." She pointed to the coffee table in front of the couch. There was a large brown box sitting square in the center. Spencer quickly rushed over to the box and sat down as the trio stood behind him. He couldn't help but feel like something was up, but what was it. "He said that it reminded him of old Jonathan Shay, who nearly died in the American Revolution. You can see there's an old journal entry in there, read it…" Spencer shifted through some of the papers and records, till he found an old brown journal with the initials J.S. on it. Opening the book, he shifted through the papers until he found the entry regarding Jonathan's scrape with death.

_William and I were knee high in blood, my wounds were great, and my thought was solely on my beautiful wife back home. I thought I would perish, never see her face again, but a savior came. He was oddly dressed and had a strange cut of hair, he was fidgety and William was indeed skeptical that he was not of the enemy redcoats. However, upon seeing that William and I had been left for dead, this man offered to run for General Washington, and run he did. Our General returned with the troops and promptly fixed my wounds. Needless to say, I recovered and went home to my beautiful bride. I have this strange man to thank for my life, and should we ever meet again, I wish to thank him more properly, but I imagine that day will not come soon enough._

Spencer chuckled nervously, pushing down the immense pride he felt over having saved Jonathan. "Oh by the way Spencer. You know mom's family all lives in Florida, right? Dad told us that he'd been in touch with Mom's dad, Grandpa Spencer's not doing too well these days."

"That's too bad, maybe we should talk to him." He knew he was named after his grandfather, Spencer. The elder had been born in 1928. They didn't talk much to him, and he lived in a nursing home. Thinking to himself, he pulled his cell phone out and started to dial his father. "I just want to talk to dad, I don't mean to cut you guys off."

"No, it's okay. We told him about your 'time traveling', so he's interested."

"Right." After the phone rang a few times, his father, Steven answered with a cheerful greeting voice.

"Spencer, how are you? Still out 'time traveling'?"

"Yeah, but I was _actually_ doing it."

"Really? That sounds great, son." There was a hint of disbelief in his father's voice, which was unsurprising. He wouldn't mind proving his dad wrong. "Did you happen to see any ancestors?"

"Yes! And I uh…think maybe I wound up meeting you and Granddad." Tyrone Shay was the World War II veteran, he understood this now. Carly smiled as she listened to the phone conversation, Spencer had put the phone on speaker for them. "I met our ancestor who was in the Civil War, met Jonathan Shay, and oh yeah, I even fell in love!" Steven laughed heartily.

"Fell in love, did you? You know, they say falling in love with your past tends to lead to problems in the future."

"Yeah, I hated to break her heart. She was really sweet, an artist too."

"An artist? Ah, just like your mom."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, your mom comes from a long line of politics and artists. Politicians on her father's side, artists on her mother's side." Spencer chuckled and heard Freddie mention to Sam, something about a painting they'd found tucked away beneath the bed. It was now sitting next to the television. Spencer turned his eyes to the painting and lifted his eyebrows, it was a familiar image of a half dressed man lying on a soft white bedspread. "Tell me more about this woman you've met."

He started to pale as sweat began dripping down the side of his face. "Well, she was destined to be married to a man named Jack. Jackson for full, I guess. She was complaining of women being treated as lesser beings and of art being less than politics. So I took her back in time, traveled a while, and one thing led to another…"

"Hmm, Jackson?"

"Yes."

"What was her name?"

"Sally." He heard his father breathe in and chuckle softly. "Anyway, how's Grandpa Spence doing?"

"Not well, I'm afraid. I'm afraid his body's starting to shut down on him. He's lived a good long life of eighty for years. Such a shame he's never met his birth father."

"I thought his dad was-" He paused and felt the bile rising in his throat, everything was starting to connect together. Carly's eyes widened and both Freddie and Sam started to snicker, everyone was coming to the same conclusion. Spencer Carlson's father was Jackson Carlson, who married into the Abrams family.

"No, his father was some strange mysterious man that ended up having sex with his mother on the night of their wedding party. Three guests at that party confirmed this man's appearance and a giant manhunt began." Spencer whimpered and listened to Carly's friends snicker even more. Carly began turning green and he came to understand the gravity of the situation. "Jackson loved Sally enough to forgive her, though from what your mom's always told me, her grandmother went the rest of her life loving this mystery man. She was always a dreamer, dreaming of this 'time travel' stuff, and praying one day this man would come back for her…and she kept hoping for that until she died in 1970." Spencer started to gag, closing his eyes and listening as his little sister passed out on the floor. "She named her son after this man of course."

"Y-Yeah…"

"Um, everything okay over there?"

"W-Well…hold on…" He slowly set the phone on the table, shuddering as he rose to his feet. His eyes fell on the painting next to the television and his hands moved to his stomach. He let out a loud moan as Freddie and Sam put their hands to his shoulders. Sam clicked her tongue and slowly exhaled.

"Well Spence, you fathered your own grandfather. How do you feel now?" The bile continued to burn his throat, while his chest flared up with fire. Disgust filled him as he tried to picture how _wrong_ that whole mess was. Perhaps this was why the time machine had never been invented yet! How the hell could he be attracted to his great grandmother? How!

"I'm pretty sure a pile of dog shit has seen better days…"

"Uh huh." Sam nodded firmly and reached down under the couch, pulling up a large aluminum bat. "May I offer you this baseball bat?" How did she know he kept the bat under the couch? Then again, she always seemed to surprise him. It was there in case anyone tried to break into the house. He swallowed his growing disgust and gripped the bat firmly in his hands. There was only one thing left to do.

"Thank you, Sam." He slowly made his way to the time machine and stared at it, shaking violently. He'd just become the man in all of his family's tales, thus answering about half of his family mysteries. Though it would be okay if it were just John, or his father, or the man who convinced Tyrone not to let his depression destroy him, but _no_, it couldn't end there. Somehow, he became his own freaking grandfather, and screwed his great grandmother.

With a powerful yell, he raised the bat to the machine and started beating it, destroying it with strong blows. He could hear his father talking from the phone, asking him what was going on, but he ignored the man.

Now he understood, there was one golden rule to time travel, one that kept every inventor from finishing or patenting their final product. Time travel almost _always_ put you in the vicinity of an ancestor. Screw the 'step on a butterfly, send a shockwave across the world' rule, which implied not to do anything that could change the world, and thing as small as stepping on a butterfly could do just that. The very _last_ thing you want to do when time traveling is to have _sex_. Do _not_ _have sex!_ Who cares how hot that girl, or that guy, is going to be, because it most likely _will be_ your ancestor. One cannot stress the Golden Rule enough. Do _not_ _have sex_, because if you do, you risk becoming your own grandpa.

Spencer dropped his bat next to the destroyed machine and slowly looked up, staring over at the box of ancestral records. Sam and Freddie watched him closely and Carly remained on the ground. There was only one thing that was on his mind, and that was, being the very reason that he was alive today.

"Shit."

* * *

><p>Well, I almost feel sorry for Spencer. Tell me what you thought of this, I hope you enjoyed every minute of it! Now, at what point did you realize that Sally Abrams was the great grandmother? I think Spencer learned a valuable lesson here.<p> 


End file.
